Heartshot aka the first blood
by Blacklightdancer
Summary: When I first came to 2fort, I had troubles merging into the existing structure and schedule...   All these new people..the constant killing.. and still, I was alone...just Sniper teaching me the arts of war..      SniperX femOC


Working title :Heartshot aka. First blood

A team fortress fanfiction, dedicated to my friend Benedicte. In your dreams, Sniper belongs to you. On paper, he's © Valve

This piece of fiction was created upon a series of trashy dialogues, mostly containing double innuendos about her, me and a couple of TF2 characters, After finding some very interesting fanarts on the web, I decided to give it a go, to finally write a complete fanfiction.

Due to our rather...distracted minds, it is not suitable for work, legally not suitable for underage people, too but we know you girls don't care ;)

So, fangirls are again raping your fandom. Enjoy and feel free to tag as much as you want.

I tried to avoid to much obvious Pingas, as I don't really like that aggressive style ….. it's like with erotic art and ..well, porn. As smutty the following story at some points may seem, I chose to wrap it in rather gentle words. Makes more fun writing, anyway.

Plus: At some point, I decided to add Snipe's point of view. Yay, not only one but two characters to impersonalize. One of them being seriously older and a guy – Fan yay for a creepy mind...and probably a persona-switching...what, kink?

Oh and this is straight material, as I have not yet had the idea/ chance to slash the males.

But soon!

Fun fact: I pretty much kicked of with the saucy chapter. Fan yay.

Awake

A flaring sun, risen high above the horizon, her blazing light showing every detail of the gruesome scenario...pained screams, soldiers shouting in agony and fear, the sound of guns being fired, metal shredding apart.

„Sentry down!"

Somewhere in the background, a man fell upon the remains of his creation, a knife producing from his back... a sly, low voice uttering a chuckling laugh...

Awake. Once again, something tore apart the webs of those dreams I had been wrapped in and forcefully pulled me back to reality. Freezing, I realized that I had trouble breathing, my heart racing like I was back in battle... and yet, I could not find the thing that had risen me from my sleep.

Maybe it was the devouring chaos of that endless battle itself...I wondered.

Here I was, a girl just barely scratching the border to her second decade of life, in the middle of nowhere, captured in a messy war that would never end...voluntarily.

About half a year ago, I had chosen to leave the Queen's island to follow an unknown path, hoping that it eventually would lead me to something I couldn't even tell what it was supposed to be...anything but what my life had provided me so far.

I shuddered, struggled to get up in a somewhat seated position. Blazes...would I never be able to find some sleep? It surely had not been the first time I woke up in the middle of the night...

Throwing a glance to the side, I assured that my rifle was still there...and my fingers soon managed to slide over the cold metal of my kukri placed on the small drawer beside my bed.

Something seemed to rush past me, towards the door of my room...trembling, fetching the knife, I managed to get out of the capturing warmth of my bed...and a second later, I hissed as my bare feet touched the frozen floor.

„W..who's there? Spook, s'that you? Li..listen, I don't think that's funny. Stop whatever you are doing!" I knew, though, that the masked figure had less interest in ghosting around at my place...I could imagine him to be at his more favourised place, somewhere at Scout's, probably, or even somewhere at the enemy base to have our opponents screaming in their dreams...but judging from the look he gave the runnerboy that morning, the latter would have trouble doing his business properly the next day... ugh... that french and his weird games...

Sighing, I decided that he really was screwing someone else's mind...and body, probably, at he moment and lifted my feet off the ground again.

Hiding once again underneath my covers, I tried to find peace...for I would need it for the upcoming day...

That seemed to flash in the next second. The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the drawn shutters, but that wasn't what had made me jump out of bed.

„Gettup ya maggots! There is war ahead and glory to earn! Fight for your honor or die in hell!"

Soldier... never heard of subtlety, though. His heavy combat boots stomping past my room, he had the whole base awake in less than five minutes.

I quickly fetched the parts of my uniform, managed to lace up my boots and braced myself for the daily routine, stepping out of my cabinet.

„Herr Soldier, I think ve have understood it, ja? You vill only get a sore throat!"

Following the rough mercenary, his white coat billowing behind him, was the medic. He would have a lot o work to do, that day...again and again mending the broken bodies of his team.

Soon enough, the rest of the team made it up, the dining hall was getting a messy chaos of grumpy people.

„Hey man, where's ma pancakes?" Something rushed past. „Y'a probably have to make them first, maite. 'S not like they gonna jump out of nowhere." Sniper was already busy getting himself his beloved coffee. He looked somewhat amused...and as I caught a glimpse of Scout flinching in pain as he tried to grab the eggs from one of the lower departments in the fridge, I understood. Well, it didn't seem to be that of a secret, after all.

„May I?" Sniper was shoved away by a pair of leather – clad hands, belonging to a middle-aged man whose face was hidden by a balaclava. His accent was unmistakeably...french...

„ Watcha Spook, how 'bout not popping in out of nowhere every time? Next time ya do that, ya end up with my bushwaka right through y'belly!"

„ No, no, no...I don't zink there is a need for being that angry, mon ami. Besides, you and I know exactly who would end up with a knife in the back first,non?" His thin lips pulled back into a bewildered grin. As if to emphasize his statement, he had his knife drawn out of nowhere and now the blade was smoothly pressed against the sharpshooter's throat.

Sniper growled and for a moment, I could have sworn he was about to call in a fight, but during war, it was better to ensure that at least your allies were not lunging for your back.

The usual routine seemed to crash in again, soon, I found myself on the fields of honor again, somewhere hidden up my post to take down my targets.

To be honest, the place they gave me to „work" was even better than my actual room down in the base. It was remote, nearly completely secure and provided a space to sleep or rest. Once I was feeling like being better off alone, I could withdraw from the frantic haze and find some peace up here.

Not long after I had arrived here and started to take over my duties, I realized why sniper was that fond of his coffee... meanwhile, I too wouldn't last more than three hours without refilling my vault of concentration at the help of that miracle elixir. I had to focus, though, to wait and to focus, as I couldn't simply shoot around like mad, someone's gotten the hint then. And if the chance was there, I had to be careful, as I couldn't be sure to get the same candidate in front of my crosshairs that soon again.

Outside, the sounds of guns, bombs and shattering pieces were howling louder than any storm I ever saw, the occasional pained screams or cries for help cut through the rough soundtrack.

Peeking through my scope, I had one of my favorite targets running right towards my hideout; the Heavy made a rather easy target, due to his slow and..well, heavy appearance. Besides, he's always that focused on his Sasha that it doesn't take me that lot of skill to dispatch him and the man following on his feet, Medic. So busy with shielding his healing friend that he won't ever notice the rifle pointing right at his head. The only thing he might have noticed, though, was the short, sharp pain that he felt for a second before his limp body crushed towards the ground. Just moments later , the BLU medic's lifeless body followed into the dirt. I couldn't help grinning, as cruel as it was, it always was a satisfying feeling to see my work done properly.

Hours after hours passed, the battle continued and I had to change my location a few times, as a particular stubborn enemy Soldier had his fun chasing me. But in the end, my trusted kukri had his struggling cut off and my hideout's floor drenched with his bright red blood.

Once, while looking through the scope, I noticed Sniper was being busy with Spy...that BLU creep seemed to have a thing for him...I wondered, if he was persistent enough, would he even get Sniper fall for him? Though there was something about that I didn't like, though...

Sweaty, tired and sore, I finally crawled back into the base at the crack of dawn, along with all my other teammembers. After a very quick dinner and few shallow words, I retreated for this day, longing for the soothing powers of hot waters and a good amount of sleep.

Just as I was about to leave the dining hall, a voice with a rather familiar accent held me back.

„Hey, Sheila, wait! I saw y'a had some trouble with that bloody dumbhead t'day?"

Turning towards the tanned australian figure, I briefly nodded. „ Kinda bugged me...as Spy did with you. What's up between you two guys?"

Looking up, trying to figure out his emotion behind those censor-like aviators, I caught him blushing lightly.

„'s nothin' at all, really...that spook just has an eye on me but what I do with tha' smelly frog? Can't say I gotta heart for his kind."

„You then better watch out, don't want you to get hurt...or see you getting hurt.." I smirked, but immediately frowned as his expression darkened.

„ Tellin' ya, ya never see me and him in a position I don' wan' us to be seen to."

...wait... he might not want us to see, but taking his word for real, it also meant he would be hiding whatever his intentions or moves were if he was about to...no, the mental image his cryptic words just created was far from pleasant.

„ Then keep on top, maite!" Waving with my hand, I went out of the kitchen, barely catching his muttered curse and a „wai...sheila, 's not be that way!" .

Minutes later, I enjoyed the cascade of purifying hot water droplets on my body...forgetting and washing away all day's struggle...yet, that bitter taste still lingered...I hoped for it to stay, as I hoped never to get comfortable with killing people that easy...

Sighing into the damp mist that was rising around me ( once someone will probably complain about the huge amounts of water I use..) I was only looking forward to finally get a rest.

„'oping to forget it all, right?"

I shrieked. Not just simply because of the voice, but because of the way those words were pronounced... what the...

„Spy! What in blazes are you doing here?"

The cloaked figure laughed quietly...amused.

„Zis is ...a common room free for everyone to use, no? So, ma petite fleur, why are you so enraged about our little encounter?"

I knew and I felt that I was flushed the brightest red. „ Common does not mean you are allowed to peek around as much as you like to! What are you even thinking? Getta out of here, bloody perverted frog!"

But my hand, intentionally reaching for any part of the hidden man to pain, was just feeling damp, hot air rushing by as my blow missed. The next thing I knew I had been doing was lunging instinctively for the towel somewhere on the floor...hidden underneath a thick layer of mist.

„My, my...as if you 'ad something to 'ide ….but if you wish to continue your game of 'ide and seek, I may be of assistance."

The plain white towel I was looking for suddenly was dancing in front of my face. Frowning, I grabbed it and immediately had it wrapped securely around my body again...what had he been saying?

„I zink even scout 'as more curves then you 'ave..."

Wait, what?

I didn't even want to think about that statement, given his relationship with the Bostonian anyway... that french frog sure was succeeding in giving me the creeps.

Once I had managed to finally submerge myself into the comfortable nest of my bed, stacking various blankets onto my now shivering body , I thought about my situation here at 2Fort... being the only female mercenary, surrounded by...well, more or less completely whacked identities;

That annoying brat from Boston, barely older than I was, always huffing and rushing around...never seen him calm or thoughtfully, though...

Heavy, the oversized man whose origins, as he told us, were to be found in the depths of the caucasian mountains, far off in the plains of Russia...he's somewhat obsessed with his gun and heavily relies on medic to support him... strange... that German lunatic sure has got a thing for him... have seen them close quite often, to be honest. Makes me wonder if that sadistic bonesaw-wielding man truly got a human heart... but I heard rumors...about them really, really caring for each other. They truly seem to be more than just...more than just colleagues anyway, even more than friends...

Then there was solly, a man whom we all considered to be quite simple-minded, yet he is quite reliable and a person one can trust. Faithfully obliging his orders...and talking with his shovel.

Demoman...the black irish cyclops, as he once called himself when he was -surprise- drunk. Never seen him without a bottle of booze or something, though...a kind-hearted person, nevertheless and still he's got a surprisingly good aim when it comes down to firing explosives at enemy targets.

The Engineer, a rather thoughtfully fellow from Texas... that man truly has got wits..and to be honest, his brilliant brainchilds have saved me from respawn many times.

More mysterious, even, was the man whose face is always hidden by a rather thick layer of rubber...our funny pyromaniac, little do we know, so he still remains a stranger...

And of course...Spy...that smart-dressed creep from France... he knows that there would be hardly any person not falling for him if he pressed just long enough, but to me, he was not as charming as he was simply fearsome...appearing out of nowhere, knowing what you did and who you were...it is his job, after all, but does not help in making him a friendly man.

Sniper... laughed at for his sometimes rough manners, but still, no one could deny he wasn't polite. He sure was an odd person to say so, though something about him still was very appealing...

I had been assigned his apprentice for the next few months, his task being supporting me if needed and watching my gain of experience. So far, he hadn't addressed me directly that much, either because I wasn't able to give him a reason to complain or because he wasn't that of a talkactive person. In fact, that we seemed to have in common...we both liked to stay alone and work alone.


End file.
